My Sunday Feeling

I had never heard of Shannon Richardson until the other day.  She is evidently an actor and has appeared in shows like "The Living Dead" and "Vampire Diaries."  Of course, I had never heard of these shows either.  As my alleged friend and neighborhood pediatrician Jenny Paul hurtfully put it on Facebook once, I am behind the times.

I  took notice of Shannon after the FBI arrested her for sending ricin- laced correspondence to President Obama and the Mayor of New York.  Ricin is a by-product of the castor bean.  In its weaponized form it is a totally lethal poison for which there is no antidote.  An almost microscopic amount of the stuff is capable of killing a grown man.

Did Shannon allegedly commit these crimes out of misguided political motives?  No.  She did it to frame her estranged husband, whose child she is carrying, to gain the upper hand in their impending divorce.

Now there's some thinking.

Get this.  Shannon, whom we may safely assume is not exactly bent over double with brains, goes to the local authorities in order to tell them that she found these here castor beans in the house over to New Boston, Texas along with some notes on her soulmate's desk with the addresses for the President and the Mayor contained therein.  You don't have to be Dick Fucking Tracy to guess what the first thing out of the mouths of the cops was:

"Do you have a home botany kit?  How the hell you know those are castor beans?"

Things went swiftly to hell in a bucket after that.  Shannon foolishly consented to a polygraph exam which of course she flunked.  By this time the Feds have come swooping in and discover evidence of research in how to manufacture ricin on their home computer.  Research conducted during periods of time when her husband is away at work.

Oops!  Ya know, is hard enough to bamboozle the local cops, let alone the FBI and the Secret Service once they get to poking around.  But then again, I believe it is safe to say that Shannon is not exactly the second coming of Madame Curie.

I have often said that one should leave the commission of crimes to criminals.  They are just better at it than people like you and me.

I went to a Continuing Legal Education seminar a month or so ago.  An FBI agent gave a presentation on Hate Crimes during which he told the story of the prosecution of these knuckleheads up around Searcy who burnt a cross at an apartment complex where a black man had the temerity to be living.  I remarked at the time that I had generally done well in school, and hold both a college and a law degree.

And I have no doubt that I could not attempt to ignite a cross or make crystal meth without blowing myself to Kingdom Come.  I never cease to wonder how full time morons accomplish such feats.  The good FBI agent allowed as how law enforcement is occasionally as mystified as I am about these matters.  This goes double for idiots who try to manufacture ricin which is really, really dangerous.

Similarly it would not occur to me to attempt to make threats to elected officials in hopes of laying it off on my spouse in order to gain the upper hand in a divorce proceeding.  There are way too many moving parts to that story.  And would have required much wool to be pulled over the collective eyes of the cops and the judiciary.  A nodding acquaintance with Occam's Razor would have done Shannon a world of good.  (Look up Occam's Razor.  It won't kill you.)

Hell, a nodding acquaintance with simple common sense would served her even better.

No, I never heard of Shannon Richardson until the other day.  Maybe I'll check out the zombie shows she performed in that I never heard of either.  Like Dr. Jenny says, I am behind the times.

Besides, it looks like that's the only place most of us will be seeing Shannon for the next 10 years or so.